A Merging of Worlds
by Angel Omega19
Summary: Post-Infinity War, the Avengers return to New York to a new Avengers Tower. With Thanos defeated, our heroes face a new threat that's existed in the shadows for millennia. This threat brings a certain Daywalker and his allies to Manhattan, and the unlikely allies must work together to contain and destroy the threat before the human race becomes aware of the existence of vampires.


A Merging of Worlds

Prologue

A/N: ~Started on July 1st, finished on July 2nd, 2018.~ Okay, so I watched the Looper video about the origins of Blade… Which started my obsession over the character up all over again. I love the character, love the Wesley Snipes portrayal, and call me crazy, but Trinity was my favorite in the trilogy (and you can never change my mind). With that being said, my Marvel obsession currently circles around the Avengers and Agents of SHIELD. I needed a fic that: A) fixed Infinity War, B) had all my pairings, and C) had Blade teaming up with the Avengers. So, let me just chop canon all to pieces here, bend a few universe rules, and… Here we are! One messy plot coming right up.

Time: 1:07 A.M.

Location: Downtown Manhattan, New York

Clint was perched on a rooftop doing his nightly patrol, which Tony complained was pointless because the tech in his lab would detect any disturbances throughout the city, but Clint didn't care. He loved being able to move undetected in the moonlight, the wind whipping through his hair, arrowheads gleaming as they sailed through the air. It was almost therapeutic, really, and it beat hanging around Avengers Tower all hours of the day. Normally, his nightly rounds left him clearheaded enough to fall asleep once he got back to the tower, but… Not tonight. Something… Something didn't feel right. He constantly glanced over his shoulder as he circled back towards the tower, aware of someone or something following him. He hopped down from a lower rooftop and landed in a quiet alleyway, making sure his melee weapons were within reach should he need them. Nocking an arrow, he stood still, half illuminated by a streetlamp, looking down both ends of the alleyway.

He could still feel eyes on him, but he couldn't tell where from. Carefully, he lowered his bow, still ready for an attack. From out of nowhere, four figures rushed him, faster than any human had any right to be. Unless—Not human. Great. Clint ducked, dodged, and weaved through any attempted punches and kicks, landing plenty of his own, which didn't seem to have much of an effect on them. ' _You've got to be kidding me,_ ' Clint thought angrily to himself. He grabbed the two serrated daggers on his hip just as one of the assailants clawed at him. One of his daggers met flesh and bone, cutting right through it like it was butter. He watched the… Creature?… Screech, then stare at the bleeding stump where its hand had been. It went right back to attacking him like it was nothing. Clint paled, dodging the next strike, and managed to behead the attacker. **That** seemed to stop them. That being said, there were still three more of those things, and they didn't seem anywhere near as winded as Clint was. Before they could harm Clint in any way, Clint saw something metal slice the three in half, turning them to ash before his eyes. He followed the movement of the flying weapon to a figure cloaked in black, who caught it in their hand and stowed it away, standing on the rooftop above him. The figure landed gracefully a few feet away from him.

"Um… Thanks, man," Clint told the stranger, who didn't respond. He glanced back at the pile of ashes at his feet. "What the Hell were those things?"

"Vampires. They've never spread this far north before, not like this," came his answer. Clint looked to the stranger in alarm. Vampires… Weren't the strangest thing he'd dealt with, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried. They both turned at the sound of quick footsteps, too quick to be human. There were more of them, and they were close. The stranger turned to Clint and looked at his bow. "You got any silver tipped arrows in there?" he asked, pointing to the quiver. Clint shook his head.

"Vibranium. Silver isn't typically what you want your weapons made from." The stranger tossed him a pistol that he easily caught.

"Silver rounds. Aim for the head or the heart." He cocked his own guns, dual pistols. "Don't miss." Clint scoffed.

"I never miss." He followed the stranger, sprinting through the dark down too quiet streets. Clint saw more vampires up ahead, illuminated by street lamps, looking more human than they had any right to. The things giving them away were the hissing and the fangs. They took off running when they saw the two headed towards them, but his companion was fast, firing and killing the two closest vampires. He goes to take out the other two still running, not realizing other vampires were following them via rooftop. Clint takes both down on his first shot, and the stranger whirls around to see two bodies disintegrating. He looks to Clint with a raised eyebrow. "Told ya," Clint says. He then takes out the other two vampires still running, not looking away from the stranger for a second. "I never miss."

"Hmph," he hears in response. Now that the threats had been eliminated, Clint could finally get a look at the guy. African American, early to mid thirties, decked out in black body armor, a floor length leather coat (how did he run in that?), and dark sunglasses (who wears sunglasses in the middle of the night?!) wearing silver stakes, pistols, daggers, throwing knives, the weapons he'd thrown earlier, and—Almost faster than Clint could keep up with, the stranger drew a wicked sword, lunging forward to drive it deep into the chest of another vampire who'd been sneaking up on Clint, who slowly turned to look at the impaled being.

"Thanks again," Clint told him as the vampire behind him turned into a pile of ash, looking back to him. The stranger sheathed his sword with a sigh.

"The streets of New York aren't safe, especially for an Avenger. This world can't afford to lose one of you to the virus."

"The virus?"

"The vampire virus. It's evolved aggressively in the last few years. There might not be enough time to make a new cure if one of you gets bitten."

"Hey, not that I don't believe you buddy, but how exactly do you know all this? In all my years of being in the field, I've never run into a vampire problem, until tonight."

"Ever since news of the death of Dracula has spread across the world, vampire clans have been gathering, moving, trying to find new cities to take over, out of my reach." He cracks his knuckles casually. "Unfortunately, there's no such thing." Clint let those words sink in before it finally hit him.

"You're Blade, _the_ Blade," he stated, astonished. "I've heard the stories and urban legends, but… They said you died." Clint let out a short laugh, looking to the sky. "I don't believe this. This is… Amazing. Wait until I tell the others—" As he looks to where Blade was just standing, he finds thin air. His head whips around, but the only thing that greets him is the streets of New York. "Man," he whispers, a bit put out. Sighing, he makes his way back to Avengers Tower, thankful for the grappling hook installed in his bow.

As soon as he lands on the balcony, a voice calls out, "You were out later than usual." Clint smiles, folding his bow and taking his quiver off his back.

"Ran into a little trouble. Had to take care of it," he told him.

"What kind of trouble?" Clint goes over to him and lays a soft kiss on his lips.

"Stop worrying so much, Phil. Some idiots tried to jump me and I took care of them." Phil pulls him down for a proper kiss, but Clint can still tell he's uneasy.

"Where'd that pistol come from?" Phil asks as he pulls away. "You didn't leave with it." Clint forgot how observant he could be sometimes.

"It was a gift," Clint answered as they headed towards their shared room a few floors down, stepping into the elevator.

"From who?" Phil looked at Clint curiously when he received his answer.

"A myth."

XxX

Time: 2:20 A.M.

Location: Nightstalkers Hideout

Blade strolled into the hideout about an hour later, having either eliminated or lost the rest of the group he'd been following. He removed the weapons holstered and strapped to him, setting his pistols, knives, daggers, silver stakes, and sword aside, shrugging off his coat and removing his sunglasses. He sighed at his luck. He hadn't expected to meet Hawkeye during his chase, nor did he expect to work with him, however briefly. This could spell bad things for himself and the Nightstalkers. The Avengers didn't need to be involved in this, nor did he want their involvement. They'd be doing nothing but putting more lives at risk and increasing the possibility of public awareness of the vampire threat, which was the last thing that needed to happen. Not only that, but he was sure that a few vampires had gotten away from him. No doubt their tribe leaders would be aware of his presence now, which would make things going forward even more difficult now that they knew he and the Nightstalkers were actively hunting them in the area.

"It go that bad?" a voice sounded across the room. Blade looked up to see Abigail Whistler walking towards him, dressed down, clearly unable to fall asleep. "You're not scowling like you usually are. What are you thinking?" Blade looked to her, serious.

"I'm thinking things just got a lot more complicated," he answered. She pulled out a seat at a nearby table and motioned for him to sit. When he did, she took the seat across from him.

"How complicated?" He sighed.

"Avengers complicated." Her eyes widened.

"Did you run into them during the chase? I don't—

"I found Hawkeye fending off a few vampires a few miles out from one of their old hideouts. Tonight's the first time he's ever run into one."

"We can't have them dragging the media into this. It'll put the _world_ in danger, and we just survived a world ending event. We can't let them take this public," Abigail warned him. Blade didn't seem too concerned.

"They won't. I'll take care of it."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Blade quirked an eyebrow, getting to his feet, fully intent on getting a decent night's sleep.

"Charm," he answered simply. Abigail snorted as he walked away.

"I doubt the Avengers will find you charming," she muttered under her breath, though Blade still heard her, a small smirk on his face. She got up and made herself a cup of coffee. She'd need it to finish her shift. She seated herself behind an array of monitors, showing security footage of everywhere within a five mile radius of the hideout, flashing between streets every minute or so.

One month, and they still weren't any closer to finding the location of one of the eleven tribes. With Dracula defeated and the reapers a problem of the past, Blade thought it would be best to target one of the key pieces of the vampire world: one of the twelve houses. Specifically, he was targeting the tribes of the House of Erebus. The last he'd heard of them, Deacon Frost had sacrificed the then head members of the tribes in an effort to become La Magra, a vampiric Blood God. With Deacon and the tribe leaders dead, the tribes had needed time to rebuild and recover, and they'd had more than enough time to increase their numbers and strengthen their ranks in the last few years. Thankfully, they'd gained, or should she say regained, a few allies of their own.

After receiving a cryptic message from Blade two years after he'd been missing, he and her father, Abraham Whistler, who they'd all believed to be dead, had returned to help them fend off an impending attack from one of the tribes. That day had been an emotional one, and one she wouldn't likely forget anytime soon. Although Blade still preferred to work mostly on his own, he decided to work with the Nightstalkers again, if only to remain by Whistler's side. That same year, as they found themselves back in New Orleans on a lead about a group of familiars doing more than just their master's bidding, they'd stumbled upon Karen Jenson, a friend of Blade's from a few years back. She'd managed to make a bit of a name for herself, not only finding a way to cure vampirism, but also how to turn the virus against its host. She'd engineered a few bioweapons designed to cripple, incapacitate, or kill, and now had no qualms about putting silver bullets into any that tried to cause her harm. After some convincing, she agreed to work with them, joining their group.

Now, here they all were, and they might become compromised because of superheroes. What a mess.

XxX

Earlier that day…

Waking up was a weird feeling. You're not quite sure where you are, what time it is, and what's going on at the moment, and then your mind clears and you remember. You remember defeating the Black Order after grueling battles that left you emotionally and physically exhausted. You remembered watching some of the people you loved most disintegrate before your very eyes if they hadn't already been killed. You remembered feeling the world crash down around you as everything you knew was destroyed with a snap of fingers. It made your heart race, threatening to beat out of your chest if it didn't explode in agony or shatter from heartbreak first… But then you remember traveling back in time. Then you remember saving all of your allies, all of them with you throughout the perilous journey to disable the Infinity Gauntlet, all of them by your side during the final showdown. Then you remember disarming Thanos, and you all struck him as one with a killing blow. Then you remember that you saved the world, your allies, families, civilians, even the nemesis that was locked away in prison that you'd had some good rivalries with, safe.

Every Avenger woke up experiencing that same hodgepodge of feelings, and then they smiled, because it was a new day, and they were right where they belonged.

Tony stirred when he felt someone lay a cool kiss on his lips in greeting. He smiled, opening his eyes to find Loki staring down at him affectionately. Loki was an interesting man— God—demi-god—asgardian—Frost Giant?—Person. After he was locked up by Odin on returning to Asgard, he'd reached out to Tony. At first, Tony thought it had been the team playing tricks on him for a few months, but as time went on, the pranks and tricks turned less into tricks and more into thoughtful gestures. Flowers with anonymous cards were left on his bedside table. A vintage bottle of wine with a short note was left by his bar. At one point, he'd found one of his half completed schematics for a portable, easily hidden repulsor finished, despite having hit a roadblock with it the previous night, a note laying beside it reading, _You're welcome_. At that point, Tony began leaving messages for the mysterious person to find, hoping they would respond, and they did. They didn't give up any personal information, but Tony found that he liked this person, felt a connection to them. The good deeds went on until, one day, about two years after the attack on New York, he found a note by the bar that read, _Can I have that drink now?_ Tony read it again, shocked, realization crashing into him like a freight train, before looking up to find a sheepish and dressed down Loki standing a few feet away, looking a bit worse for wear.

"Hello, Anthony," he'd greeted him quietly. Tony put the note down, scrutinizing a quickly growing nervous Loki. He'd had a hunch that Loki had been mind controlled back then, because how could his shy, witty, smug, perfect stranger be a cold and heartless warlord out to rule the world? Tony grabbed two glasses, pouring moderate amounts of expensive whiskey into them, setting aside one for himself and going over to hand the other to Loki. When their hands touched as Tony was passing him the glass their eyes met, and Tony was the first to smile, sincere, genuine. Loki smiled back at him, relieved. They sat, they drank, they talked. Apologies were said, and accepted, thank you's were given, compliments were exchanged, misunderstandings cleared up. They met just about every day, sitting down for drinks and discussing their exciting lives, for a few years. Over time, both of them could read the signs that there was something more. The gentle touch of a hand, a free and hearty laugh, the way their eyes lingered on each other just a little too long, the way they began sharing more and more with each other. Loki was there for Tony after Killian, after Ultron and Sokovia, after Pepper left, all while balancing his duties as king.

Contrary to popular belief, he was a benevolent ruler. He made sure to strengthen alliances and negotiate peace with those who would do Asgard harm. He rejuvenated Asgard's economy, which had been, despite deceiving appearances, sorely lacking for centuries. He addressed the people's needs, in his own non-conventional ways. Did he always make the right decision? No. Was he above petty grievances with certain people who'd disliked him? Not entirely. And when he thought he'd done the best he could as Odin? He'd revealed himself to the people of Asgard and asked Heimdall to bring Odin back, and while his "father" was not happy with him for putting him under a spell and leaving him on Earth, he did not take back his title of king. Instead, he helped advise Loki, and when Thor returned carrying the skull of Surtur, looking between his father and not dead brother, all was well. Granted, Asgard still fell, Hela still took Thor's eye, and Odin died looking his daughter in the eye and apologizing, but things weren't as bad as they could have been.

During that time for Loki, Tony had been dealing with the Sokovia Accords and the civil war between the Avengers, so the two didn't speak again until the altered timeline, where time had undone Loki's death at the hands of Thanos. The two hadn't spoken until the moment time stood still, the Avengers looking on at what was left of the Mad Titan. Then, and only then, did the two finally embrace, finally kiss, finally let their true feelings be known. They couldn't remember being happier… Until this very moment, staring into each other's eyes, knowing that they've faced the worst that's ever happened, and come out on top.

Tony turned to face Loki, pulling him in for a full, passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around him, never wanting to let go.

Steve awoke with a content hum, snuggling deeper into the arms of Bucky, who smiled warmly. Their story spoke for itself: two best friends who'd been both friend and foe, both struggling to find their way back to each other. Bucky constantly struggled to retain his identity, to fight the programming of the Winter Soldier. Steve struggled to escape his identity of Captain America, to just be Steve Rogers. Now that they'd found each other, all was right with the world, and now that the world was saved, they finally had time to explore what they meant to each other. If the shy kisses Bucky felt against his neck were any indication, they meant a helluva lot more than friends, and he was perfectly okay with that.

Steve had had a lot of time to think when Bucky went into cryostasis. He thought about what they'd done for each other, how far they were willing to go for what they loved and believed in. He thought about the days when Bucky was the one sticking up for him, before the whole super-serum situation. He thought about Bucky pulling him out of the river after their fight on the helicarrier, when it seemed like he'd lost his best friend forever. He thought about the day when Wakanda came under attack, fighting side by side. He thought about the way Bucky had hugged him after Thanos had taken his last breath in this world. It all led him to one conclusion: he was hopelessly in love with this man, always had been, always would be. And he was okay with that.

"Hello to you, too," Bucky murmured sleepily.

Jane Foster never imagined ever having a life with Thor, not like this. She couldn't ever imagine settling down with the ruler of a planet, much less settling down with him under the same roof as the rest of the Avengers, but here they were. Things hadn't been too great for a while between them. After Sokovia, they hardly spoke. Jane had received her Nobel Peace Prize for her research on Einstein-Rosen Bridges, the two had gone out and celebrated, and then… Life went on. Jane continued her research and Thor traveled the nine realms. The occasional visits were short, fleeting, and not very memorable, except for one. The last they'd spoken, Thor had asked Jane to marry him, apologizing for never being there for her, for never being able to be the romantic partner she deserved. He wanted to make it up to her, show her how much she meant to him. Jane had, to put it mildly, freaked out.

When it sank in, what accepting meant, she had most definitely freaked out. Being the Queen of Asgard, leaving Earth, abandoning everything she'd ever known… She couldn't do it, but she had no idea that marrying him would not entail that. Asgard had been destroyed by Surtur and Hela's battle, Earth being the only other realm Thor called home. With Loki's help, Thor had been able to visit briefly every now and then as they navigated their way through Yggdrasil in the vessel they'd obtained from Sakaar. She'd denied him, left him there, both of them heartbroken. Darcy, of course, had talked some sense into Jane, demanding she call Thor back down and explain her worries and why she'd said no. It could be, Darcy had pointed out, he didn't want any of those things for her and she was just overreacting. She didn't get to lay eyes on Thor again until the day Thanos was defeated. She'd only just received word from Heimdall about all that had transpired when her and Thor laid eyes on each other again. Without hesitation, she ran into his arms and he, surprised at her reaction, embraced her just as enthusiastically. That was when she made up her mind.

"Yes," she told him emotionally as they pulled away, and Thor looked to her in surprise.

"I thought, after I asked, you never wanted to see me again," he admitted to her.

"I overreacted. I thought you… I was stupid, and I regret leaving things like that between us, but I want you to know that my answer is yes."

Now, here they were, curled up together in bed together, the past behind them. They both slowly awakened at the same time, hands finding each other, eyes looking into one another's, just taking in the moment.

It was a rare morning when Stephen and Everett found themselves waking up together. Building a relationship hadn't been easy; building a friendship had been interesting. They clashed quite often when in the same room at first, both being skeptical about the other, their line of work. But for some reason, the world just couldn't keep them apart. They'd found themselves on the same side in Wakanda, some time after Everett's first visit. The CIA had held a meeting with Strange when reports of him and his sudden changes had surfaced. Everett once found himself on the doorstep of the New York Sanctum with no memory of how he'd gotten there or why he was there in the first place. Eventually the two had sat down together and spoken at length. They hashed things out, came to agreements, got to know each other, and found they were more familiar with one another than they originally thought. But what really took the cake was a simple quip that one day brought memories flooding to the forefronts of their minds.

" _Turning up your collar so you look cool,_ " Everett had said to him, and a wave of unexplainable emotion swept over him. Where had he heard that phrase before? Stephen had explained the Eye of Agamotto, how it could manipulate time. He'd also explained magic, how it worked, what it could do, and, on the crazier end of the scale, how past lives and reincarnation were, in fact, a thing. Their eyes met, and bits and pieces of past lives flashed before their eyes. They raced through London, chasing after a cab that contained their case's suspected serial killer. Eurus's plan is stopped in its tracks, and the two return home to Rosie, who grows up so fast. Everett sees them both wearing wedding bands as they put her to bed. They're conversing about the Arkenstone in a huge treasure heap before one of them is breathing fire and the other is running for their life. They're both caught in a battle with five of Middle Earth's fiercest armies. They spend a week together in the Shire. They spend an eternity together in the Undying Lands.

When they come back to themselves, they're breathing heavily, letting it all sink in. They look to each other in wonder, then in happiness, having found each other once again, even under the current circumstances. They reminisce about their past lives quite a bit when they see each other again, and when they run out of things to talk about, they begin to build a relationship in their current lives. The last time they see each other before Thanos, Everett is on his way to a meeting with T'Challa about foreign policy matters and Stephen is going in to assist the Avengers. The next time they see each other, Everett is sitting in Stephen's room in the Sanctum, alone with his worries and thoughts. When the door to the room opens and a battered but alive Stephen walks in, he's immediately in Everett's arms, and the two stay like that for some time. Eventually, Everett stitches up what he can and they both lie down together, mentally drained, wanting nothing more than to be in the other's company for as long as possible. They fall asleep in each other's arms.

Wanda awoke to Vision bringing her breakfast in bed, currently in his human-looking form. Waking up to Vision felt like something out of a dream to her. Watching him die violently before her only to be brought back to suffer more had almost torn her heart in two. He'd protected her every step of the way, made his feelings known to her, and all the while there wasn't enough time to establish just what they were. He understood her, cared deeply for her, and at the end of the day, had said those three magic words just as they began the final assault on Thanos. After his defeat, the day had been a whirlwind of celebrating and making sure everyone was okay. While there was kissing and cheering and partying going on around them, Wanda and Vision had been content to stay in each other's arms, needing that physical touch to ground them in the moment. They were both alive and Thanos was gone.

"You didn't have to," Wanda told him as he set the plates down in the center of the bed, taking a seat beside her. He smiled, handing her a fork.

"I know, but I wanted to." She smiled gratefully, gathering food on the fork and holding it out towards Vision. He looked at her curiously, and she sighed happily as she fed him some of the breakfast.

T'Challa and Nakia strolled through the bustling streets of Wakanda in the early afternoon, hand in hand. Since Killmonger, things between them had been… Different. They still didn't agree on a great deal many things, and their new project had kept both of them busy in the months since, but they had still kept in touch, still spent an afternoon together every now and again. It wasn't until the Thanos threat that their relationship was put into perspective. Yes, they had fallen out before, with opinions too different to coexist. Now, however, they'd both changed, both began seeing the world and the people around them a bit differently. T'Challa tried once more to win over her heart, and succeeded, with a catch. They would take things slow this time, and simple disagreements would not tear them apart again.

"How did it feel to save the world?" Nakia asked him as they passed by shops and buildings full of people.

"It was… An experience," T'Challa replied, memories still fresh in his mind. Nakia looked to him worriedly, before attempting to lighten the mood.

"When you met those aliens… Did you freeze?" He looked to her in disbelief, but couldn't keep the smile off of his face. She smiled back.

Natasha awoke to the smell of coffee and a dipping of the bed. She opened her eyes to find Bruce smiling at her, holding two mugs of the wonderful beverage.

"You're up early," she told him, sitting up.

"You're up late," he replied. She took the offered mug with a quiet thank you, sipping at it gratefully. Ever since they'd been reunited, Bruce had tried to subtly apologize for leaving without a goodbye. A cup of coffee here, a new improvement on her weapons there, and a Hulk save thrown into the mix. She hadn't seemed upset at him, had told him as much, and though there was a bit of awkwardness at first, they soon moved past that and tried to rebuild what they'd started. Bruce was surprisingly romantic, and Natasha had had to kiss him in the middle of one of his nervous ramblings to get him to listen to her.

"You don't have to apologize," she'd told him at the time. "I'm just glad that you're back and that you're safe."

He stole a kiss as she put her mug down that left her smirking with a raised eyebrow.

Clint slowly opened his eyes, aware of a presence of warmth at his side and the sun shining into the room. He gazed over at Phil, who was in the process of waking up. Clint pressed a kiss to his husband's forehead as he opened his eyes, drawing a hum out of him. The day Clint realized Phil Coulson was alive was the day Phil "returned from Tahiti". Fury had been adamant about keeping the Avengers in the dark about his survival, but Phil… He just couldn't do that to Clint. Before the Avengers Initiative they'd been… Trying to figure out what they were. They'd just officially settled on boyfriends when Loki invaded Earth. When Loki's plan to unleash the Hulk began, it was Phil who reached Clint first; Natasha found them later. He thought Clint would attack him, but he seemed to be struggling with himself when he saw Phil. He managed to tell Phil about the mind control and Loki's location aboard the helicarrier. When Phil went to confront Loki, Clint snagged his arm, demanding he go anywhere but there. He wouldn't be able to look out for him in his current condition and Loki would have no problem ending him. Phil argued back that someone had to confront the bastard. The Avengers were indisposed and most of the SHIELD agents were concentrated on the bridge. They needed answers, and they needed to eliminate the threat. Clint called him an idiot, obsessed with the mission.

"SHIELD needs you, Phil. **I** need you. If you confront Loki, that big gun of yours won't save you! You'll be throwing your life away, and for what?" His eyes glazed over with blue again. "Loki surpasses you in every way." He drew his bow, aiming right at Phil's heart. "Who are you next to a god?" he wanted to know. Phil clenched his jaw, holding Bambino like the weapon was his lifeline.

"I'm Phil Coulson," he told him, taking a step back. "That's who." Clint narrowed his eyes before turning to aim his bow at an approaching Natasha. Phil rushed to the Hulk's holding cell, only for Loki to stab him from behind with the Chitauri scepter. He remembered the world going dark, then waking up in Tahiti, where he was told he'd been recovering. After getting cleared to return to duty, and being gifted the B.U.S., the first thing he'd done was call Clint. He didn't like the way they'd left things, and even though he'd been told not to tell any of the Avengers that he was alive, he had to call Clint. Clint hadn't believed him at first, accusing him of being an imposter, an LMD, a fake. Phil gave him his location and asked him to meet him there if he wanted to confirm it. He had, and they'd had a long discussion. Occasionally, Clint would drop by to aid the team with missions, less so after the collapse of SHIELD. He and Natasha dropped by more often after the outbreak of Inhumans, provided the Avengers didn't need them, of course.

The team found out about them when they went to the farmhouse amidst the Ultron situation, Clint and Phil as domestic and together as can be. It wasn't until it seemed there was no way out on Sokovia that Clint proposed to Phil over the comms. Phil had argued that he'd already bought a ring, that he'd planned on proposing after the Sokovia situation had been resolved, but said yes anyway. Clint hung around with Phil and the team full time after that, going back to being a SHIELD agent and "retiring" from the superhero business. Until the civil war between the Avengers… And after time was turned back and they needed all hands on deck to defeat Thanos… Semi-retired then.

In addition to all of the couples living in the tower, there was Sam, Rhodey, and Pepper. Pepper had her own place to live, and a company to run, but she stayed at the tower more often than not. **Someone** needed to be the mature adult around there when Bruce and Steve had their moments.

Life in the tower was oddly relaxing. They still had the occasional villain who hadn't gotten the memo about not messing with Earth's Mightiest Heroes attempt to get their way, but all in all, life was good. Clint did a nightly patrol of the city, Tony, Bruce, Jane, and now Shuri continued upgrading everyone's gear and creating new technology (the billionaire and princess had a friendly rivalry going on), the world and the remaining realms were all at peace, and they'd just defeated the universe's greatest evil. What could happen?

Closing A/N: I'm writing this at a random pace and because I need this fic to exist. I'm posting just the prologue for now since I haven't had much time to actually write the rest of the story yet. If I do end up making any major plot changes, I'll change the prologue accordingly when the time comes. When it's finally finished, I'll probably be posting chapters twice a week. This is going to be an interesting experiment. This fic is for one of the most underrated (anti?)heroes in the MCU and because Blade and the Avengers teaming up is too good a storyline not to write. See y'all next update!


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